Harry Potter: Isosceles
by Sharptooth
Summary: Or how Harry Potter met his destiny in triangular fashion.  With Harry as the base, two young witches become equal but opposite sides of a partnership with him as he races towards his destiny during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. HP/HG/LL.  Definitely AU.
1. Home is Where the Wards Are

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note: **My thanks to dennisud for asking me to write this, and for agreeing to beta read it for me. You did exactly what I asked for, and I appreciate the time and effort you spent in helping me to develop the story line. I hope it turns out as well as I think it will. For a time frame this starts at the end of term of Harry's third year.

**Isosceles: How Harry Potter Met His Destiny in Triangular Fashion**

**Chapter One: Home is Where the Wards Are**

**Hogwarts Express, 1330, 17 June, 1994**

It had actually been a calm, almost boring ride back from Hogwarts to London. Harry, Ron and Hermione had grabbed a cabin when the train had first rolled into Hogsmeade, and the only ones to join them were Neville and Ginny. As the two of them tended to be quiet, especially Ginny when in the proximity of her greatest crush; Harry had plenty of time to doze during the journey.

As a thirteen year old boy, Harry put that time to good use, religiously studying the insides of his eyelids, getting in some undisturbed slumber for the first time in a very long time. It had been a very long, hazardous year, ending in yet another snubbing of Harry by the Wizarding World in general and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic in particular.

Harry and Hermione had undertaken a quest at the very end of the year to rescue his Godfather, Sirius Black from the dementor's kiss. Through a combination of fortuitous advice, copious amounts of luck, some extraordinary skills, powerful magic, and the ability to travel in time, they had managed to succeed not only in their primary task; but they had also managed to rescue Buckbeak the hippogriff as well.

Harry woke briefly as the train shuddered momentarily on its tracks for some strange reason. He glanced around and noticed that Ron, Ginny and Neville were all playing exploding snap quietly on the other side of the compartment. Since he couldn't hear any noises coming from them, he assumed that Ginny had cast a silencing spell so as not to disturb him. She was the only one of the three that he trusted to both think of others and to have the necessary skills to complete the task. Harry loved Ron as a brother, and Neville was one of his closest friends, but they were both pretty poor wizards, at least at this stage in their development.

It was then that he realized that the last member of their group wasn't playing with the others. He started to panic when he realized that she was there in the compartment, she just wasn't with the others. She had stretched out so that she could lie down on the bench next to Harry. Her head was on one of her arms which was on his leg, and her hair was spread out across his lap. She had wrapped her other arm around his waist and was hugging him softly. She appeared to be sound asleep, and Harry couldn't help but think that this was the most beautiful that she had ever appeared to him. He had always thought that she was pretty, but this took it to a whole new level. He blushed slightly as he realized the direction that his thoughts were taking.

He reached down and gently brushed a lock of her hair away from her face, admiring her soft features. He had never really taken the time to watch her sleep before, and he found it very soothing. She snuggled closer to him as he gently caressed her hair. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, more content than he had ever been before.

**Platform Nine and Three Quarters, 1500, 17 June, 1994**

As they had been among the first to enter the train, they were among the last to exit. Harry liked to hang back, both to avoid as much of the crowds as he could, and to delay the inevitable confrontation with his Uncle Vernon. He let Hermione get off the Express first, and then followed her down. They waited patiently as Ron got the two of them trolleys for their luggage, and then the group started to separate towards their respective families.

As Ron and Ginny hurried to catch up with the twins so that they could meet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Neville spotted his Grandmother's distinctive vulture hat, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and led him over to meet her parents.

Harry could see right away where Hermione got her looks from. Hermione was almost a carbon copy of her mum. Mrs. Granger was just as pretty as her daughter, though she had more mature features; and where Hermione's hair was bushy and out of control, her hair hung in ringlets down her back. Mr. Granger was a large man, well over six feet tall, and massing somewhere between fifteen and sixteen stone.

"Mum, Dad, this is my best friend, Harry Potter," Hermione said by way of introduction. Harry smiled and stuck his hand out to shake Mr. Granger's hand.

"Hello, sir, ma'am," he said softly. He was startled when Mrs. Granger pulled him into a hug. _I guess I see where Hermione gets it from, _he thought to himself.

"Hello Harry," she said as she stepped back. "We're so glad to finally get a chance to meet you. Hermione's letters always seem to include more information about you than anything else, so it's good to be able to put a face to the name. We met briefly a year and a half ago, but you've grown considerably since then."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry agreed.

"Mum, did you remember the books I owled you about?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, dear, your father has them, I wouldn't think of trying to heft that load all the while that we had to wait for you lot," her mother answered. Hermione took the bag from her father and turned to hand it to Harry. Harry looked at her quizzically and she just smiled at him.

"I know that your family is going to be just ghastly to you, Harry," she said, "so I thought that you could use something to take your mind away from your surroundings." At Harry's gob smacked expression her smile got even larger. "It's just a few of my favorite classic stories, I thought that you might like them, and by reading them you might come to understand me a little better," she said with a slight blush. Harry wondered why she would color at the thought of him knowing her better.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said as he gathered her into a brief hug. "I've really got to get going though, or Uncle Vernon's going to be really mad." He turned to leave, and then stopped and pulled a bit of parchment out of his pocket. He handed it to Hermione. "Here's my uncle's home phone code. I doubt he'll let me call out, but you should be able to call me once in a while." He shifted from foot to foot for a moment. "I'll miss you this summer," he whispered to her, and then spinning on one foot he made his way towards the exit before she could spot the tell-tale coloring of his cheeks.

As he was almost to the exit he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, he spotted Draco Malfoy's pale blonde hair. He figured quickly that whatever it was that the Malfoy scion was up to, it could lead to nothing good. Deciding that his Uncle could wait a couple more minutes, he followed his nemesis around a corner.

It turned out to be a good thing that he had, as the Slytherin had a small witch with even paler blonde hair than Malfoy had, as well as large, protuberant eyes pinned to a wall. Harry glanced around, but it seemed that his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, had already left for the summer.

"Poor little blood traitor, caught here all alone, where's your mummy and daddy?" he said with a slur in his voice. The blonde girl didn't answer; she just tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of his grasp.

Harry didn't even think twice. He stepped quickly up behind him, ignoring her wide, startled expression as he did so, and swung the book satchel that Hermione had just given him with all of his might. The satchel crashed into the side of Malfoy's head. He went down like a ton of bricks, crumpling unconscious to the floor of the platform.

"Alright there?" Harry asked the girl. He could see now that she was in Ravenclaw House, and that she seemed to be slightly younger than he was. She had a most peculiar necklace that appeared to be made of butterbeer corks, and he noticed that her earrings seemed to be made of radishes. He tried in vain not to stare.

While he was staring at her, she was staring placidly back, her unblinking eyes and platinum blonde hair reminding him of a bizarre caricature of Hedwig, his snowy owl. "You're Harry Potter," she said in a strangely lilting soprano voice.

"I know I am," he replied rather more sharply than he had intended. He hated his fame. "And you are?" he continued, trying to soften his tone.

"Someone who is now in your debt, Harry Potter," she replied as she appeared to spot someone. She waved to whoever it was behind Harry and then skipped right past him. Harry just shook his head and wondered why he always seemed to find the strangest of people. Not that this one wasn't cute, as she was most definitely _very_ cute, but she was about as strange a bird as he had ever met before.

Deciding that he was going to be in a lot of trouble if he didn't get out to meet his uncle, he gathered up his stuff and quickly left the platform.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0800, 18 June, 1994**

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, waking Harry from the rather sound sleep that he had been experiencing. It was something of a novelty for him, and he was actually rather upset over having been disturbed; sleep was a precious commodity for him.

"Coming Uncle Vernon!" Harry yelled. He knew better than upset his uncle first thing in the morning. Uncle Vernon could be nasty when he hadn't yet had his morning coffee. He quickly slipped on his few meager clothes and cinched up his belt to hold the walrus sized trousers that were his only clean pair. Once that was done he quickly made his way to the stairs. Best to risk Uncle's anger over not having his hair brushed (like that would help, anyway), than to anger him over making him wait.

Harry cautiously made his way down the stairs, making sure to stop at least ten feet away from his uncle. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked politely.

"We're going on holiday, boy, and you're going to have to fend for yourself for the time that we're gone," Vernon said gruffly. Harry was astonished. Did this mean what he thought it meant? He stared amazedly at his uncle. "We couldn't arrange for anyone to watch you while we're gone and since you now have a… Godfather to care for you, well, you know…" He huffed for a moment. "Don't touch anything, no watching the telly, don't call anyone, and for God's sake, don't leave the back garden." He shook his beefy fist at Harry, and even though the lad was ten feet away, he still shrunk back. "All the chores had better be kept up, or so help me, you'll regret it, Godfather or no…"

With that the Dursleys marched out the front door. Harry guessed that they had already packed the boot, and wanted to be away from his unnaturalness as quickly as possible. As he heard the car pull out of the drive, he couldn't believe his luck! An entire fortnight with out the Dursleys! He spun in place for a moment with the sheer joy of it! He then made his way into the kitchen and looked in the fridge and the pantry. It was stocked, not full mind, but at least twice what he would need to feed himself for the time that they were away.

He went back upstairs and decided to look at the books that Hermione had let him borrow. Reading in the back garden (Dursley free) with a pitcher of iced tea sounded lovely to him.

He opened the satchel and shook it out on his bed. A rather large bunch of books tumbled out, looking much worn, but obviously treated with great affection. He smiled at the memories he had of his best friend when he would catch her curled up in the squishy chair next to the fireplace, enjoying one of the novels in her spare moments. Those had been few and far between for her this last year, and he hoped that she would drop some of her classes so that she might have a little more free time.

He piled them up by author and took a look. Eleven books by someone named Edgar Rice Burroughs. Almost every title had something to do with Mars. He checked the inside of the books for when they were written. He may have had to act stupid around the Dursleys, but he actually had a very sharp mind, and given his choice, he really didn't mind reading if he could find any interest in the subject matter.

Also in the stack were a lot of books by Robert A. Heinlein. Judging by the covers, some of these were a little bit racy. Looking inside the covers he found that Hermione had carefully numbered them. He smiled at his friend's thoughtfulness. _Starship Troopers, Methuselah's Children, Stranger in a Strange Land,_ _Glory Road, Time Enough for Love, The Number of the Beast, Friday, The Cat Who Walked Through Walls _and _To Sail Beyond the Sunset. _Harry supposed that he had a lot to occupy his time. He intended to enjoy the time that his family was away, and if that meant losing himself in an imaginary world, courtesy of his best friend, than so be it. He was going to have a great two weeks.

He grabbed the first book, _A Princess of Mars, _went down to the kitchen and made himself a pitcher of tea. In the back shed he found an old lawn chair and a small end table. Setting everything up he sat down and made himself comfortable. He placed his wand next to his hip, and grabbed the book to read:

_I am a very old man; how old I do not know. Possibly I am a hundred, possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I have always been a man, a man of about thirty. I appear today as I did forty years and more ago, and yet I feel that I cannot go on living forever; that some day I shall die the real death from which there is no resurrection. I do not know why I should fear death, I who have died twice and am still alive; but yet I have the same horror of it as you who have never died, and it is because of this terror of death, I believe, that I am so convinced of my mortality._

Harry soon found himself transported away to Mars, also known as Barsoom along with Captain John Carter, to meet the most beautiful woman on two planets: Dejiah Thoris. He decided that perhaps Hermione had managed to make this his best summer holiday yet…

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0315, 22 June, 1994**

Harry thrashed and turned on his bed, obviously caught in the grips of a powerful nightmare. He had thrown his pillow off the bed, and Hedwig was almost apoplectic with worry for her human. She hooted softly, hoping that he would break whatever evil had him in its grip.

He woke up with a scream and sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off of him. He could clearly remember the high-pitched voice that had been talking to Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail. He had listened as the pair had discussed what had seemed to be a plan to kidnap him during the school year, and then he had witnessed when the ugly, child-like thing had callously killed the old Muggle for no better reason than that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Harry would have blown it off as a product of his imagination, except that his scar was throbbing, and that only happened when he was in the proximity of Voldemort. He grabbed his wand and crept over to the window, moving the shade just enough to see the front garden and street below. It seemed to be quite quiet outside; there was no sign of the Dark Lord or Wormtail. Harry sighed in relief, but he thought furiously for a few minutes.

In the end he decided to write three letters, one to Hermione, one to Sirius, and for good measure, one to Dumbledore. He decided for to not write to Ron about it; after all, the redhead really wouldn't have much advice for him, now would he?

It took him about twenty minutes to write the letters, and another ten to assure Hedwig that he would indeed be alright without her here to see to him. With a last ruffle of her feathers he opened the window and ushered her off to deliver the notes to the others.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0930, 22 June, 1994**

Harry decided that he would do a little exploring, as he had just finished the last of the Barsoom books that Hermione had let him borrow. He was both thrilled and saddened that he had finished them, but he still had the other books to read, and these were much longer than the others. He had also managed to finish all of his summer homework. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione when he saw her next. He was sure that she would be very proud of him.

It took a little ingenuity, as he was rather short to reach the chain, but he managed to eventually get the trapdoor opened to the attic. He had never been allowed up there, and since he was all alone, he felt that what his aunt and uncle didn't know couldn't hurt him. He quickly ascended the stairs and went for the first time in his life into this uncharted territory.

Most of what was up there were more of his aunt's nick-knacks, and what appeared to be a complete tool shop of his uncle's. He was amazed at the sheer complexity of the tool set. There were things there that he couldn't even imagine what they were used for, let alone figure out why they were up here in the attic. He recognized a few of the drills his uncle used at Grunnings with a shudder. He stayed as far away from those as was possible. Just the thought of a whirring drill was enough to make him sick to his stomach. He fought back the bile which threatened and ruthlessly suppressed the memories which almost overwhelmed him. His relatives had much to answer for.

He was just about to go back downstairs (it had been rather a waste of time) when he spotted a small, odd looking box in the far corner. Curiosity getting the better of him, he went over and opened it up.

There was a small baby blanket, covered in broomsticks and snitches on top of everything. A small thrill went through Harry. He closed up the box and carried it with him down the stairs and into his room.

Under the blanket he found a few pictures in very bad condition, a couple of what appeared to be wand cases, and a dusty old book. He took up the pictures and looked carefully of them. They were of his parents! One of them had his parents, Padfoot and Moony, and himself in it! He happily clutched it to his breast for a few minutes while tears streamed down his cheeks. What a treasure! He carefully set the pictures down and looked at the cases. He opened them and found two wands.

One was about eleven inches and made of a pliable mahogany. The other was made of willow, and he gave it a flick. It was just as Olivander had described: swishy. His parents' wands were now in his possession. Anger seemed to explode within him. Harry contemplated how he would get even with his aunt and uncle someday for keeping these things from him as well as all the myriad other things they had done to make his life miserable..

The book proved to be even more of a find though. His mother had been something of a prodigy, and this was her private spell book. There was so much in it that he had never heard of. He decided that the Heinlein books could wait. He was going to read his mother's spell book this day!

A few minutes later Harry was settled down in his favorite lawn chair, spell book in hand. He opened the book and a couple of pages in a piece of parchment fell out. He picked it up and looked at it. It was written in what looked to be a feminine, somewhat tidier version of his own scrawl.

_Saturday, 24 October, 1981,_

_Just had a visit from some very dear friends, the Grangers and the Lovegoods. Robert and Jane haven't been over since before we went into hiding. They had to be told the secret by Peter; so did the Lovegoods actually. We also hadn't seen Xeno and Selene for a few months. Selene had her baby, and it was a delightful baby girl! Little Luna is just over a month old, and she's adorable. The strangest thing happened though, when she and the Granger's girl, two year old Hermione both snuggled up next to our Harry, there was a brilliant flash of pure white light. Everyone noticed it, but it faded quickly. All three of the kids seemed really comfortable with each other, and they ended up falling asleep together. It was so cute. I hope that they can make it back sometime soon after Halloween. It's been really lonely here while we've been in hiding…_

Harry read the note over and over again. His parents knew Hermione's parents! This was incredible! He would have to talk to her about it. He wondered briefly why it was never brought up that the families knew each other, but he had other things to consider. He had a spell book to read.

A few hours later he set the book down. If he had read this last spell, well, a ritual really, correctly, then he could unlock his full magical potential. He thought furiously. Who could he contact about this? Who could be trusted to not give him away to the Ministry or anyone else for that matter? Who could shield him from the Ministry's underage magic detectors? It seemed hopeless, and he flopped back in his seat in frustration. As he did he smacked his head against the metal crossbar. The pain spurred a memory though. He sat back up. "Dobby!" he called out.

With a loud crack the excitable little elf appeared next to him. "Harry Potter Sir is calling Dobby?" Harry almost jumped off of his chair.

"Erm… yeah," Harry replied. He placed his hands on the elf's tiny shoulders. "Dobby, I need your help. I remembered that last year you did some magic that was detected by the Ministry, and some that wasn't. Why was that?"

"House elves is being able to control whether or not their magic is detected, Mr. Harry Potter Sir. Dobby was being a bad house elf when he got Mr. Harry Potter in trouble before…" He looked around for something to punish himself with, but Harry was faster.

"Don't worry about that, Dobby, I forgive you for it. You were only trying to help me." The little elf gazed at Harry with a look of pure hero-worship. Harry sighed. "I need you to get me all these components." He pointed to the list in the book. "Then, tomorrow night, I need you to help me by putting up a ward to block the Ministry from detecting when I perform this ritual. Can you do that for me, little friend?"

"Dobby would be happy to do this for the great and mighty Harry Potter! Never before has Dobby been treated so well by a wizard, except when Harry Potter himself has done so." He snapped his fingers and was gone with a loud pop!

**Number Four Privet Drive, 2355, 23 June, 1994**

Harry had spent the last four hours preparing the back garden for the ritual. It had to be performed at midnight on the new moon. That was just a few minutes from now. He had been transcribing the runes and the magic circle for most of the four hours. He looked at it, checked it in his mother's book, and figured that it seemed to match what she had drawn in it. He grinned at the thought that it was his long dead mother that had shown him how to do this, when he had no experience at all in the subject.

Just before midnight he nodded to Dobby, who cast the wards to block the Ministry's underage magic detectors. Harry sat akimbo in the middle of the circle and pulled out his wand. He started chanting the words that the ritual required, while tracing the wand movements described in the book. For ten solid minutes he did so with nothing happening. He was almost ready to give up, when everything went pitch black. It had been dark before, but now he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face, let alone the silhouette of his house.

There was a loud crack, and the sky lit up as a burst of brilliant white hot lightning crashed straight down and struck the middle of the circle. Harry's screams were drowned out by the clap of thunder as magical fire coursed through every fiber of his body…


	2. Unbound Escape

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling

**Chapter Two: Unbound Escape**

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0018, 24 June, 1994**

Harry stirred slightly, a great ringing taking place in his head. He groggily opened his eye and took an inadvertent jump backwards, as there was a _very_ protuberant set of eyes within inches of his own. "What happened?" he asked as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir was being doing a magical spell when the lightning is being striking him," Dobby said in a rush. Harry tried to sit up, groaned as his head protested, and then pitched to the side and wretched horribly as his stomach complained vehemently at the treatment he was subjecting it to.

When he was finished he wiped his mouth and looked around for his wand. He spotted it about a dozen feet away. It seemed that he had flung it as the lightning had struck. He hesitantly got to his feet, and, finding his legs not too shaky started what seemed to be a ten-mile journey to gather his belongings. He was just about to reach down for his wand when he felt something strange, deep inside himself.

He straightened and then lurched suddenly to his left. He grabbed first at his stomach, then clutched his chest. The sensation had progressed to first a prickling and then a burning which seemed to flow through his very soul. He staggered backwards and fell flat on his back.

His back arched as pain ripped though him. He let out a blood curdling scream as his body burst into eldritch flame. It flickered about him and then, inexplicably centered on his scar. Red flame battled with a green glow momentarily until the flame seemed to consume whatever fuel was there and Harry let out a low moan. He bonelessly collapsed and knew no more…

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0102, 24 June, 1994**

He sat bolt upright, violently shaking his head, trying furiously to understand what had happened to him. He looked around and saw Dobby, furiously pounding his head on a tree trunk. "Dobby, Stop!" he yelled out, and stopped when he realized that he had experienced no pain when he yelled. He looked at Dobby who was frozen in mid swing of his head.

He stood up and took stock of himself, something that he had recently started doing, just to make sure that he still had all his body parts attached. When you were Harry Potter that wasn't something to be taken for granted.

Finding that he was all still attached, he turned his attention to the frozen house elf. "Dobby, what have I told you about punishing yourself. You haven't done a thing wrong, and you have no reason to do that. If you are going to do anymore work for me, then you must stop this. I will not allow you to hurt yourself just because you think you've done something wrong."

Dobby was looking at him with a mixed expression: there was clearly disbelief and shock, but also a love the depth of which frankly scared Harry. He didn't really know how to deal with the little elf, and he hated the fact that Dobby was clearly another one of those that felt that Harry was a great and powerful wizard just because he survived a killing curse when he was one year old.

"If you promise me that you will talk to me if you feel that you did something that deserves to be punished before you take matters into your own hands, you can move again," Harry said softly to his little friend. Dobby flicked his eyes in what was obviously a positive response. "Thank you, my friend," he said as he patted him on the shoulder.

Dobby flung himself into Harry's arms and wept tears of joy. Harry let the little guy cry himself out and then set him down. He stepped over to his wand and muttered to Dobby, "I feel better than I think I ever have," as he stooped down and picked it up. It felt a little strange in his hand, as if it didn't really belong there. He looked at it quizzically before he flicked it at the now charred ground. "_Evanesco_," he said softly.

There was a loud clap of noise as the most brilliant white light Harry had ever seen seared through his optic nerves. He let out a yelp as pain from both his eyes and his hand shot through him. He let out an 'oof' as he slammed into the ground about ten feet back from where he had been standing.

He looked around, trying to figure out what had happened this time when he realized something that shocked and scared the wits out of him. He couldn't see a thing! Everything was black! He tried to feel around, only to jerk his hand back as it was very, very painful to touch anything.

"Dobby?" he called out.

"Dobby is here, Mister Harry Potter Sir," came the comforting reply.

"What just happened?" Harry asked softly. "And could you please stop calling me that?" He could make out a charred smell, like someone had waved a burnt matchstick under his nose. He wrinkled his nose and tried to sit up, but failed miserably.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir's wand blew up, Mister Harry Potter Sir," Dobby said in a worried voice. "Is Mister Harry Potter Sir being okay?" he continued, clearly ignoring Harry's request.

"No, Dobby, unfortunately I'm not alright this time." Harry replied as he thought furiously. "I seem to have hurt my hand, and I appear to be blind. I can't see a thing."

"Dobby is being getting the Headmaster! He's being knowing what is needing to be done!" The elf shrieked.

"NO!" Harry thundered, startling the little elf. "Please don't," Harry continued in a softer voice. "If you do that then it'll get back to the Ministry that I've done magic here, and then I'll be in a lot of trouble. They'll chuck me in Azkaban, Dobby, and I can't even see. Voldemort's Death Eaters will kill me if I can't defend myself. I won't even last a night there." Harry was starting to get a queasy, panic-induced feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Then what is Dobby to be doing?"

"First, you can help me to my bed, and then maybe help dress my wounds. Then you can clean up here. Then come back and hopefully I'll have figured out what more you can do to help me." Harry smiled in what he hoped was Dobby's direction, but was in fact about three feet to the elf's right.

"Dobby can be doing that!" the elf squeaked. He grabbed Harry's uninjured hand and with a snap they were on Harry's bed. He snapped his fingers again and Harry felt a cool, soothing sensation on both his hand and his eyes. He reached up and felt soft bandages. Sniffing softly he smelled a very familiar scent.

"Essence of murtlap," he said with a smile, remembering the plant from one of his Herbology classes. Neville thought very highly of the plant's many properties.

"Yes Mister Harry Potter Sir that is what Dobby is being using." Harry could feel Dobby bouncing up and down in excitement. He let out a little chuckle.

"You really are a very smart little elf," he said, then added "Thank you for being such a good friend to me, Dobby." He held up a hand to stop the little elf from throwing himself at him, and continued. "Why don't you go and clean up the garden, and then come back here. I should have thought of something by then."

There was a sharp crack, and the little elf was gone. Harry thought frantically and furiously as he waited for Dobby to return. It wasn't more than a couple of minutes before he heard the tell-tale crack of the elf's return.

"I know it's late, but could you please go to Hermione's house and wake her. Tell her what has happened and find out what she wants to do. Make sure that she realizes that we can't go to the adult wizards or I'll get in a lot of trouble. If she thinks that she has to come here, then make sure that she lets her parents know. I don't want her in any trouble because of me." He yawned and realized that he had been going without a lot of sleep the last few days, and he suddenly felt very drained.

He realized that he was falling asleep when he barely heard the crack of Dobby apparating away…

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, Stratford-Upon-Avon, Warwickshire, 0126, 24 June, 1994 **

Hermione Granger let out a little 'eep' as she woke up from a loud cracking noise next to her bed. She quickly had her wand out from under her pillow and was pointing it in the direction of the noise when she realized that there was a small house elf bouncing up and down in front of her.

"Dobby?" she asked.

"Miss Grangy remembers Dobby!" the little elf squeaked happily. "You's must be helping Dobby! Mister Harry Potter Sir is asking for his Grangy!"

"Harry?" Hermione cried out. "Harry needs me? What's happened, Dobby?" She sat up and studied the elf as she gathered her wits about her.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir is being hurting, and he is asking for his Grangy. He is being not able to see, and Dobby is thinking that his is being more scared than he is being showing…"

"What's going on, Pumpkin?" came a deep, if somewhat sleepy voice from the doorway. Hermione looked up and saw her parents standing, looking somewhat bewildered.

"Something's happened to Harry," she explained quickly. "Dobby, what exactly happened to Harry?"

"Mister Harry Potter Sir is being using a spell and his wand exploded," Dobby said as Hermione let out a gasp and clutched her hands to her mouth. "He's being telling Dobby to come and get you, but to be sure and not let you go to the Headmaster or anyone, or Mister Harry Potter Sir will be in a lot of trouble with the Ministry. He's not being wanting to be chucked in Azkaban!"

"I should hope not!" Robert Granger exclaimed. "Hermione, can you help him?"

"I don't know, Daddy," Hermione said quickly. "I think that I can. Can I go to him?" She turned back to Dobby. "Where is he?"

"Mister Harry Potter Sir is being in his bed, Miss Grangy," Dobby replied.

"Well that's good," she murmured. "Mum, Daddy, I need to go and see him. If he's really hurt badly, then I'll have to try and get him to St. Mungo's." She mentally ticked off a list of things that might have happened. "Dobby?" she asked. "Where are his relatives?"

"They is being on holiday, Miss Grangy. Mister Harry Potter Sir is being alone."

"Those bastards," Hermione's dad said quietly. "Pumpkin, take my cell phone. If you need anything just call your Mum. We can be there in about," he did some quick figuring in his head, "an hour and a half. It isn't that far to Surrey."

"Thank you, Daddy," she said as she got up and went over to him and kissed his cheek." She went to grab some clothing and things that she thought she might need.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0208, 24 June, 1994**

Harry managed to hear his best friend before the bushy-haired missile struck him and locked him in a tight embrace. "Harry!" his best friend shrieked as she hugged him for all he was worth.

"Hello, Hermione," he chuckled. "You feel nice," he said in such a soft voice she wasn't sure she had heard him.

"What have you done, Harry Potter," she growled at him as she took in his bandages.

"I did a ritual to unlock my magical potential," Harry explained. "It did some really strange things to me, but it didn't seem to be all that bad until I tried to use my wand to clean up. It blew up in my face." At Hermione's gasp he went on. "Dobby got me cleaned up and then I asked him to see what you thought should be done." He hesitated for a moment. "I… I… I'm glad you're here, Hermione." He took in a shuddering breath, trying to get his emotions under control. He was much more scared than he cared to admit.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, Harry," she said softly. "You just sit there for a moment while I check you out… I mean see if you're alright," she added hastily. Harry distinctly heard her wand swish over him and she muttered a phrase in Latin that he didn't recognize.

It took a few moments, but he heard her exclaim, "Bloody Hell!"

"What?" he asked anxiously.

"Harry, your magical core's power index is off the chart! It's as if something was restricting you before. She waved her wand at him again. "It appears that your magic is regenerating your optic nerves, so you should be alright in a couple of days," she said with a sigh of relief. "I guess it's a good thing that I spent all that time getting Madame Pomfrey to teach me a bunch of healing spells," she muttered. "That way I can actually take care of you this time…"

"Thank Merlin," Harry muttered.

She brushed his bangs back so that she could feel his forehead. "Harry, your scar has faded… a lot," she said in surprise. "How do you feel?"

"Overall, I feel great," he said quickly. "Although I've been missing you something terrible," he admitted.

"I've missed you too… Prat," she replied with a smile.

"Thank you for coming, really," he said shyly. "I'm in a mess, Hermione. I don't know what to do."

This made Hermione pause. She had never seen Harry so scared that he actually admitted it. "We'll get it all sorted out, Harry. We'll get you a new wand. I promise that I'll help with whatever you need." She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Harry smiled at this. He seemed to hesitate. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?" she replied.

"I know I've no right to ask, but, well… I… I guess what I'm trying to ask is will you stay here with me, at least for the night? I'm scared, and I'm really lonely. You're my best friend, and for a few moments, when you were hugging me I felt better. I felt, well, contented when you were holding me…"

Hermione's heart burst with emotion at this! He needed her, and he had admitted it to her! Her smile brightened at the thought. "Of course I will, Harry. I told you that I'd help you. I just need to call my parents and tell them that I'll be home in a couple of days. I'll explain the situation to them, and then I'll be right back, alright?"

"Alright, Hermione," Harry said, a goofy grin on his face. She left the room to place the call. A few minutes later he heard her re-enter the room.

"Budge over," she said softly to him. He scooted to the side and felt her lift the covers and then crawl in with him.

"Hermione?" he asked, his voice high pitched.

Harry stiffened and squeaked, "Hermione what are you…"

"Harry, I only see the one bed, and I'm not sleeping on this floor," she said, her voice laced with disgust. "Besides, I trust you not to despoil my virtue," she said with a chuckle. Harry immediately relaxed. She snuggled up to him and whispered. "Now, isn't this better?" He had to admit that it was indeed very much better in his opinion.

Harry slowly let his arm encircle her and pull her close. "Now, Harry, tell me everything that's happened," she whispered in his ear.

Harry wasn't sure that he could concentrate on his tale, having her there in bed with him was quite distracting, in a very nice way… He sucked in a breath and started to tell his tale to his best friend.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0730, 26 June, 1994**

Harry woke up thinking that he had never been quite so happy as he was at this point in time. Even though he was injured, and blind, he had spent his time in the company of his best friend, on holiday, with his relatives nowhere to be found. He smiled at the thought.

Remembering that they had removed his bandages the night before, he opened his eyes and the first thing he noticed was that there was a mass of bushy brown hair in his face. The second thing he noticed caused him to sit straight up in bed.

Hermione groaned as her homemade pillow moved on her. "What is it, Harry?" she asked.

"Hermione," Harry said in an excited voice. "I can see."

"That's great, Harry," she replied happily. She smiled at him, but a puzzled look came over her face as she realized that Harry was blushing tremendously. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked.

"You…" Harry managed to get out. "You're wearing…" He let out a groan and leapt out of bed, running for the loo.

Hermione chuckled when she realized what had caused Harry's reaction. She was in her night clothes and it was the middle of the summer holidays. It was too warm to wear what she normally did at Hogwarts, so her night clothes were rather more shear than Harry was used to. At least he certainly seemed to have noticed that she was a girl…

**Number Four Privet Drive, 0900, 26 June, 1994**

"Hermione, I think I have a way to fix some of the things that need fixing," Harry said to his best friend who was sitting on the couch next to him. She was reading the spell book that he had gotten from his mother.

"Oh, and how is that?" she asked.

"Well, on page ninety-three it has a spell that can be used to change your magical signature. That would help with my being able to perform magic outside of Hogwarts. Also, I have two other wands that I could try to use. Since they were my parents' wands I would have a better than average chance to use at least one of them properly. I know it wouldn't necessarily work, but it might, at least until I can get a proper wand." He laughed and smiled at her shocked expression.

She set the book down and regarded him. "Harry, how many books have you read in the last hour?" She waved at the stack of Heinlein books strewn on the coffee table.

"Erm… six?" Harry replied, his tone clearly questioning where she was going with this.

"And don't you think that's a little unusual?" she asked. At his bewildered expression she continued. "Harry, each of those books is at least four hundred pages. It takes me at least two days to read one, and you've just read six of them in sixty minutes. That's ten minutes a book, Harry."

"Alright…" he said uncertainly.

"You just quoted a page out of your mother's spell book. Since I just read that particular page I know you were correct. How many times have you read this?"

"Just the once_…_ a few days ago."

She stared skeptically at him for a few moments. "Harry, you see this book?" She picked up _The Cat Who Walks Through Walls_. "On page twenty four, what is question seven?"

"If you were a corpse arriving at Golden Rule space habitat and you wanted to conceal your identity but had to be able to get at your passport and other documents for departure, where would you stash them? Hint: check when this cadaver arrived in Golden Rule. Then check hotels, lockers, deposit box services, poste restante etc," Harry replied quickly. "Why?"

"Don't you see? This must be one of the potential abilities you unlocked." Hermione was bouncing now, reminding him of Dobby. He shook his head to clear that thought out of it.

"I really prefer the line from the top of the page," he said to her, hoping to distract her. "When in danger or in doubt, run in circles scream and shout."

"How can you make a joke at a time like this?" Hermione shrieked at him. "Are you trying to be as dense as Ron?"

Harry recoiled from her, tears welling in his eyes. Him being like Ron? There was a low rumble of thunder outside, and rain began to pelt the windows. Hermione looked quickly at the windows and then up to his eyes. Her heart broke. She had hurt him.

"I… I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "I didn't mean to insult you, I just got carried away."

"It's alright, Hermione," he said in the same tone. "I know how you can get when you're studying something. I just don't like being what you're studying. I like it when we do things together, but I don't enjoy feeling like a science experiment.

"I'll try not to do that again, Harry," she said to him and smiled at him to show that she wasn't upset. He grinned back at her. "I'd suggest going for a walk, but with the rain I guess we'll have to stay inside."

She looked over to the window, but the sun was shining in brightly. She raised an eyebrow, but kept her eyes locked on the window. "I guess I was wrong. Fancy a walk with me, Harry?" she asked.

"I think that I would, Hermione," he answered, his sour mood much improved.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 1035, 26 June, 1994**

Harry and Hermione had returned from their walk to see that the post had been delivered through the slot. There was a letter there from the Weasleys addressed to the Dursleys. The envelope had been literally covered in stamps, and his address had been written in very tiny print on the small space that wasn't covered. Harry chuckled as he opened it.

"This would have driven Uncle Vernon crazy," he told Hermione. Taking the letter out he began to read it aloud so that Hermione could hear.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,_

_We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. _

_As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place at the end of the summer holidays…_

Harry read through the letter. He had been invited to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys. This was good news indeed. He put the letter back in the envelope and had Dobby reseal it.

Hedwig had a note from Ron telling him about it as well as informing him that they had gotten an extra ticket for Hermione. Harry grinned at his best friend at that. They would be able to spend some more time together this summer after all.

Harry grinned as he thought of getting away from Privet Drive. Not that his holidays had been bad this year, but his relatives were do back shortly. He looked over at a calendar. "Bugger," he whispered.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I just realized. My relatives will be back tomorrow. They mustn't find you here. If they do there'll be Hell to pay."

"It's alright, Harry. I'll get Dobby to pop me home, and we'll see each other at the Burrow in August," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, right," he said. "I'll just really miss you until then."

"I've enjoyed being here with you too, Harry," she said as she studied the floor pattern. She looked up at him. "Now, let's see about a wand, shall we?"

It took a while, but Harry determined that his mother's wand was a slightly better fit for him than his father's. He could use either, and decided that he would keep his father's wand as a back up, but he really liked how his mother's wand felt in his hand. It seemed to be a part of him when he used it to change his magical signature, under the careful wards placed by Dobby of course.

After a small lunch, Hermione determined that she should be getting back. Harry seemed to deflate a little at her pronouncement, but he kept a small smile on his face for her behalf.

They stepped out into the back garden so that she could get a breath of fresh air before she left. It was misting out, just an ever so light rain. She sighed and looked at Harry. "I'll see you in a few weeks, Harry. You'll be fine." She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek.

She grabbed Dobby's hand, and with a crack she was gone. Harry scowled and frowned as the rain started to pick up. He trudged back into the house and went upstairs to practice his magic while he waited for his relatives to return home.

**Number Four Privet Drive, 1300, 2 July, 1994**

Vernon Dursley was not a happy man. He had just received news the day before that he had been denied the promotion that he thought was rightfully his. It seemed that in his absence while on holiday Grunnings had hired someone else for the position. He reached for the bottle of expensive liquor and discovered that it was empty. "Bollocks," he muttered. He went to his liquor cabinet to get another, but it was also empty. "Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks… this is all the freak's fault," he murmured darkly. He stumbled and tried to steady himself when he put his enormous foot down on one of the empty bottles and it rolled, causing him to fall heavily to the floor.

When he had managed to get back to his feet he looked around wildly. Grabbing the first thing he could see that would do some serious damage: the fireplace poker, he stalked up the stairs in search of his intended victim.

Harry Potter was resting quietly in his room. Currently he was trying to recall the vision of loveliness that was his best friend. More and more he was becoming obsessed with Hermione's form. He supposed that he was being a normal teenager in doing this, and he smiled as he realized that even thought she wasn't here, she was helping him in this as well.

There was a loud crash as Vernon Dursley smashed the door clean off its hinges. He charged over to a very startled Harry. "YOU LITTLE FREAK!" he bellowed.

"Uncle Vernon, what?" Harry started when the poker crashed down on his collar bone, breaking it with an audible snap. Harry yelps and tried to move, but his arm wouldn't work right. The poker swung again and caught him in a rib. Harry cried out and tried to cover his head, shoulder and ribs all at once. He curled onto the bed and whimpered.

Vernon roared with drunken rage and raised the poker, this time intending to plunge the tip into his nephew's unresisting form. He drove it mercilessly down at Harry when there was a flash of light and a wave of concussive force swept Vernon off his feet and he crashed into the nearest wall. He slid down and crumpled to the floor, as Harry Potter's curled up form faded from view on the bed…

**Number Four Privet Drive, 1320, 2 July, 1994**

A dazed and confused Petunia and Dudley Dursley found Vernon in the Dudley's second bedroom unconscious on the floor, a fireplace poker lying there next to him.

"Vernon!" shrieked Petunia. Dudley shook his father until the older man woke. "What happened?" his wife asked.

"I've no idea, Petunia," he replied as he struggled to his feet.

"Daddy, why are there locks and a cat flap on the door to my second bedroom?" Dudley asked, looking confused.

"What on earth are you talking about, Dudders?" Vernon asked. He shoved his son to the side. As he did so they all stood there confused. There was indeed multiple locks on the outside of the door, and a small cat flap at the bottom. They didn't even own a cat…

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1315, 2 July, 1994**

Hermione Granger was sitting in the den, reading one of her mother's trashy romance novels when her best friend materialized right in front of her. He was in a fetal position, and he was clutching his ribs and shoulder while coughing up blood.

Her screams echoed throughout the household…

**Author's Note: **Well, there we have it, chapter 2 in the books. I hope that you enjoyed it. My thanks again to Dennisud or beta reading this, if you get a chance, check out some of his stories.


	3. His Hermione

**Author's Note: **A heartfelt thank you to my beta, dennisud, who did an amazing job with this chapter. Three cheers for dennisud! "Hip Hip Huzzah! Hip Hip Huzzah! Hip Hip Huzzah!"

**Chapter Three: His Hermione**

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1317, 2 July, 1994**

Robert Granger burst through his daughter's door, perhaps a little bit faster and harder than he might have actually done had he not been almost in a panic from the screams coming from his little girl within. The door gave way, along with most of the frame as he showed why he was the captain of his local rugby team.

Inside he saw the last thing in the world that he expected to see: Hermione's best friend curled up on the floor, clutching his ribs. There was blood on the floor from where he had obviously coughed it up. It only took one look to convince him that the boy was in a bad way.

"Jane!" he called out as he heard his wife bounding up the stairs. "Get the medical supplies! Hurry!" He knelt down and started checking Harry's vitals. He might not be a medical doctor, but orthodontic surgeons had to go through medical school too. He knew what he was looking for. He found that Harry's pulse was thready and weak, and that his respiration and heart rate were extremely elevated.

A quick glance showed that the lad's left forearm had suffered a compound fracture, and from what he could see from the hole torn in his shirt, it appeared that he had broken ribs, a gash in his side, and probably a punctured lung.

He looked up at his daughter and caught her worried look. He gave her a weak smile before he looked for his wife. She skidded around the corner with a case in her hands. He let out a breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. "Jane, I need a splint, bandages and a syringe filled with a broad range antibiotic. I've got to set his arm, and then if I can get him stabilized we can see about transporting him to the hospital." He took a moment to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. "Kitten, could you come down here and hold him? Just sort of cradle his head and keep him calm. This is really going to hurt him, and if he jerks too hard he could do more damage to himself."

He waited until Hermione was in place, and then in a quick, practiced motion, just like when he was in medical school, he set Harry's arm. Harry let out a dull moan when he did so, but otherwise stayed calm in Hermione's embrace. Robert looked at the pair of them, saw the expression on his little girl's face and suddenly realized that the pair were way too close for comfort, but for some reason it didn't seem to bother him the way he thought it would. He decided that he would think about it later. It was much more important to get Harry stabilized.

With efficiency of motion, he and Jane got Harry's arm bandaged, and then started to work on his ribs. He cut Harry's shirt off of him, and examined the wound. Something long, thin and heavy did this to the lad. The blows seemed to land in one spot, and then about one to two inches away something had torn through his skin and ripped his flesh. If he had to put money on it, he would guess that it was a fireplace poker. He was no forensic specialist, but he wasn't a stupid man either.

He helped Hermione hold Harry still while Jane injected him with the antibiotic. Being in the medical profession had taught Robert and Jane Granger the importance of being prepared.

After he finished working on Harry's ribs he sat back on his haunches. He wasn't sure if he could do any more with the boy. He hoped that he had done enough to stabilize him for the ride into the city proper. "Kitten, we need to get him to a hospital. He's got internal injuries, and I can't do any more for him."

"No, Dad," Hermione said softly. "I can help him. I just need to take a couple of precautions first. "Dobby!" she shouted. The excitable little elf popped in.

"What can Dobby do for Harry Potter's Grangy?" Dobby asked. Then he looked around and saw Harry lying in Hermione's arms, covered in blood and spittle. "MR. HARRY POTTER SIR!" he screeched.

"Dobby, Harry told me that you can make it so the Ministry can't detect magic if it's cast. Can you do that for me now? If you can then maybe I can help Harry." She looked at him and tried to pour all her need into her expression.

"Dobby can be doing it, Ms. Grangy!" he said as he started to move so fast he was a blur. A few seconds later and he was back. "Ms. Grangy can be helping Mr. Harry Potter now!" he squeaked.

"Thank you, Dobby," she told him. She pulled out her wand and started in with the diagnostic spells that Madame Pomfrey/Pomphery had taught her earlier in the year. When she was satisfied with the results she started to cast the healing spells that would help her best friend.

Ten minutes later she collapsed in a heap. It always drained her to cast multiple spells in quick succession. She looked at Dobby and smiled. The little elf smiled back and quickly levitated Harry so that he was on the bed. He was unconscious, but Hermione knew that it was a good sign. His magical core was helping with the healing process, and the prognosis was excellent.

"Is he going to be alright, darling?" her mother asked. She shared an incredulous glance with her husband. Harry had clearly been hurt beyond their capabilities, and probably would have had to stay in the hospital for weeks, if not months in order to recover from his injuries.

"Yes Mum, I believe he will. His magic has induced a coma, and it should help him to heal quickly. He'll come out of it in a day or so." She bit her lip nervously, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"What is it, Kitten," her father asked. He had a suspicion, but he kept it to himself.

"It's just that, well," she started, "I know this is going to sound foolish, but Harry always does better if I'm near."

_Is this how it starts? _Robert granger wondered to himself. _Is this what it feels like to lose your baby girl to another man? They're so young, but I think they lost the innocence of youth long ago. _He tried to subtly shake his head to clear his thoughts. His daughter and her, well, probably boyfriend needed his support right now, not his obstruction…

"So you want to stay here with him?" her mother asked.

"Yes, Mum," she said while trying to hide a blush. "He stayed next to me the every night when I was petrified, and I think that I felt that. I think it was the only thing that kept me sane through it." She looked her mother straight in the eyes. "I want to be there for him like he was for me."

"Are you sure this isn't just some sort of adolescent crush, Hermione?" Jane asked her daughter.

"No, Dearest, it isn't," Robert Granger interjected. Two heads turned towards him. "I don't know how I know, but this isn't a crush. In fact, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that it's much, much more than that." He looked at his daughter and had to catch himself before he laughed at her expression. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was wide open.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he cajoled. "Something about the two of you just feels right. I felt it at the station, and I feel it here. You two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic, but I really think that you two have something special."

"Thanks, Daddy," Hermione said in a demure voice. She threw herself into a hug with her father. "I feel it too," she admitted to him. She let him go and turned to Dobby.

"You did very well, Dobby, but could I get you to go and get Harry's things from that wretched house? It would mean a lot to me."

With a smile that threatened to break his face, Dobby popped away.

She turned back to her father. "Dad, do you know our family tree? Do you have a genealogy that we could look at?"

"I could probably get one from your Gran, Kitten," Robert replied. "Why?"

"Just a hunch," Hermione answered as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Just a hunch…"

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1315, 2 July, 1994**

Albus Dumbledore came running as the sound of multiple alarms sprang from the devices on his desk. There could be only one thing that would cause those particular alarms to go off. Harry Potter was no longer residing at Number Four Privet Drive!

He checked the instruments closely. He would have to investigate this, but given the time of day, it would be difficult to disguise himself from the Muggles, and disillusionment was such a bother now. He would have to send someone that could blend in. He thought furiously for a few moments before snapping his fingers as he congratulated himself on his thoughtfulness.

He sent one of the school elves to fetch his Deputy Headmistress. She arrived with the elf shortly.

"What can I do for you, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall asked in her normally harsh tone.

"I need you to go to Harry's home in Little Whinging," he said, putting every bit of influence into his voice as he dared. "Something has happened to Harry, and we need to know what the situation is." He looked at her seriously. "And, I need you to stay undercover," he said softly.

"Of course, Albus," she replied. "I'll return as soon as I find anything out." She turned and fled the room.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1645, 2 July, 1994**

"And so that's what I found when I visited the Dursleys," Minerva McGonagall said incredulously.

"You actually expect us to believe that they know nothing of what happened?" Severus Snape said in a condescending tone.

"I'm telling you that it was as if they had never even heard of Harry Potter," McGonagall spat out at him. "It was almost as if they had been both confounded and obliviated." She turned to Dumbledore. "It was very strange, indeed, Albus."

"I agree, Minerva," Dumbledore replied. He turned to the others gathered there. "Just a few days ago, Harry wrote a letter to me describing a bizarre dream he had about Voldemort. Severus, I want you to go to every Death Eater hideaway you can remember. Kingsley, check at the Burrow, see if Harry made his way there. If he isn't there, then start looking in on his other friends. See if he made it to any of them. I'd suggest Ms. Granger, but she's supposed to be on holiday, and her family always goes abroad." He twirled his beard in thought for few seconds. "Tonks, you check the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. Minerva, contact Sirius and see if he's heard anything from Harry."

"What about you, Albus?" Minerva asked.

"I am going to pay a couple of visits: to Malfoy Manor, and to Little Hangleton. Perhaps one of those shall turn up our missing boy." He gave a stern look to all present. "Let us be off," he said sharply. Fawkes swooped down and he grabbed the bird's tail. With a burst of flame they were off.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 0900, 4 July, 1994**

Hermione Granger laid on the bed next to her best friend. How many times had she done this in the last three years? It seemed that it was way too many times for her peace of mind. She gently stroked his hair as she waited for him to wake.

How long she stayed like that she couldn't say, but it seemed that she must have dozed off. The next thing she knew the most beautiful voice in the world was saying her name!

"Harry!" she shrieked. She wrapped him in a tremendous hug.

"Hello, Hermione," he replied softly. "What's going on? Why am I here, in what appears to be your bed?"

"Oh, Harry, you just appeared next to me and you were hurt so badly! I didn't know what to do, so I yelled for my Dad. He and Mum helped you until I could get Dobby here. We got you fixed up, and you've been asleep ever since." She looked deeply into his eyes. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Surprisingly good, considering what you just told me." He paused in thought for a moment. "I vaguely remember Uncle Vernon being mad at me, and then my arm and ribs hurt so much, and then I woke up next to you; like you were my avenging angel. You've no idea how much I like waking up next to you," he said while his face turned crimson.

"Harry, you don't have to worry, Mum and Dad insisted that you stay. Oh, I was so scared, Harry. Please don't do that to me again." Her lip trembled and she fought back tears. She took handfuls of his shirt and drew him close. "I thought I was going to lose you Harry, I couldn't think straight. I was going to lose you and I never got to…" she trailed off.

"Didn't get to do what, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"To tell you how I feel about you," she whispered.

"Hermione," Harry said as he reached out and softly caressed her cheek. "Do you fancy me?" She nodded and turned her head, embarrassed. "Good," he stated, "Because I've been fancying you for quite a while now."

"Really, Harry?" she asked. "Your not just having me on, are you?"

"I'd never do that to you, Hermione. You mean way too much to me. You've always believed in me, and always looked out for me. You've always been there for me, Hermione. You're the one that I look to for everything I've ever needed. You're the one that makes me feel whole. You're the only one that sees me as just plain Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived."

He used the hand on her cheek to guide her closer in towards him. He looked into her soft, brown eyes and knew that this was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. With dual moans they both pressed together and deepened the kiss. While the kiss itself was rather innocent, the emotions flooding through both teens was intense enough to overwhelm both of them. Neither could resist the feelings coursing through them.

There was a loud sound, almost like a thunderclap, and a magical shockwave radiated outward from the pair, though both of them were completely oblivious to what was happening, only aware of each other.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 0914, 4 July, 1994**

Albus Dumbledore was a frustrated wizard. He was universally known as the most powerful wizard on the side of light, yet nothing he did revealed anything of the whereabouts of Harry Potter.

He was pondering his next move when the castle started to shake. Several portraits fell from the walls of his office, and he grabbed the arms of his chair to keep himself from falling out of it.

Just as he thought that surely the walls were going to come down, everything stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief and made to stand when a veritable tsunami/wall of magical energy ripped him off of his feet and threw him back into a wall. As he crumpled to the floor, he noted that every one of his magically tuned instruments exploded around the office, He didn't know what to make of it, but the pain in the back of his skull made him not really care, so, blissfully, he passed out.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1000, 4 July, 1994**

Harry Potter decided that being in love with his best friend was the most incredible thing he had ever experienced in his short life. To think that she loved him too, well that was like a double helping of treacle tart.

As much as he enjoyed snogging with Hermione, he suddenly sat straight up as he remembered something. Despite her soft protests, he made his way to his trunk that Dobby had brought to the Granger residence. Opening it, he rummaged around until he brought out a piece of parchment. He held it triumphantly and presented it to his new girlfriend.

"What's this, Harry?" Hermione asked. He nodded at her to read it. When she had finished she had a puzzled look on her face. "Our parents knew each other?" she asked him.

"It would seem so," Harry answered. "And, there was another little girl present," he pointed out. He paced for a moment. "Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but as much as you make me feel whole, doesn't it feel like there could be another missing piece to this puzzle?" he said, unknowingly repeating what Hermione's father had said.

"Yes, Harry, it does feel something like that. I can't really explain it, but you might have a valid point. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what comes our way. After all, something good came from all of this, didn't it?" she said with a huge smile on her face.

"Very good," Harry agreed. "Though, I wish I could explain why we never knew that our parents knew each other."

Hermione thought furiously. She stayed like that for several minutes. "I think that someone must have done something to their memories, Harry," she stated.

"Lockhart was really good with memory charms," Harry muttered.

"That must be it, Harry. Someone must have obliviated them," Hermione said sharply. "Oh Harry, who would have done such a thing?"

Harry wrapped her in a hug. "I don't know, Hermione, but it must have been someone very powerful. After all, to erase someone's memories of their close friends? That has to take a lot of power." He stroked her back as he sat and thought for a while.

"Hermione, I think we need to get your parents here and discuss this," he said firmly.

"I agree, Harry. I'll ring them." She got up and padded softly out of the room to use the telly.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1230, 4 July, 1994**

"What is it that you needed us to come home early for?" Robert Granger asked his only child. She was sitting on the couch, very close to Harry Potter. Robert smirked as he saw that they had entwined their fingers together.

"Daddy, Mum, have you ever met Harry's parents?" Hermione asked.

"No, I don't believe we have," Jane Granger said. "Why?"

"Because I have a note that seems to say that you did know my parents," Harry said as he passed the piece of parchment over to the Grangers. The two adults read the note and stood there, gob-smacked.

"Huh," Robert Granger said articulately…

"Indeed," Jane Granger responded to her husband's grunt. She looked up and locked eyes with Harry. With a dizzying swirl Harry was suddenly inside her head!

"_How could something like this happen, Dumbledore?" Robert asked rather loudly. _

"_Sadly, the Dark Lord decided that he wanted to take care of the irritation that was James and Lilly," Albus Dumbledore replied._

"_But they were supposed to be safe!" Robert bellowed. "They were protected! They told us that they had the strongest spell know to protect them! We had to be told by their secret keeper! How could this happen?"_

"_Alas, I don't know. They must have been betrayed… Maybe Sirius was secretly an agent of…"_

"_Bollocks!" yelled Jane. "Sirius was James' best friend. He loved them! Besides, he wasn't their secret keeper."_

"_What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked._

"_It was that little Peter Pettigrew that they had keep their secret. He was the one that told us where they were," Jane replied._

"_Really?" Dumbledore mused._

"_Yes, really," Jane said harshly. She looked up to see Albus Dumbledore with his wand out and pointed at them._

"_I'm sorry Jane, Robert, but it's really for the greater good…" He twisted his wand and pointed it at them… "Obliviate."_

"That long-bearded-secrecy-loving-lying-sack-of-a-wanker!" Harry yelled when he snapped out of it. Jane reeled as the memory was released. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and gently rubbed his back.

"He did it, Hermione… Dumbledore obliviated your parents. He just callously took their memories. The arsehole said it was for the greater good," Harry fumed.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said as she embraced her boyfriend. "Let's think for a moment, Harry."

"What do you mean, Hermione?" he asked.

"We can't just go and storm the gates of Hogwarts and beat up Professor Dumbledore, Harry. He'd wipe the floor with us right now. We're just going into our fourth year, and he's, well, he's Dumbledore. We have to be smart about this."

"You're right, of course," Harry said as he started to calm down. "What can we do about it?" He saw in her eyes the gears of her mind working. He couldn't help but smile.

"First, we're going to need some help," Hermione replied. "Dobby!" she yelled. With a loud crack Dobby appeared.

"Ms. Grangy called Dobby?" he asked.

"Yes, Dobby, I was thinking that maybe we could hire you to work for us." She proceeded to outline what she wanted. As she did so Dobby got more and more dejected.

"What's wrong Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is thinking that if he was to being working for you, that maybe Dumbydore would be making him tell Harry Potter's secrets. Dobby is thinking that the only way that he would be sure of keeping Harry Potter's secrets is if Dobby is being bonded to Mr. Harry Potter, sir…"

"What?" Harry stammered. He knew what that meant.

"Harry, he has a point," Hermione told him.

"But…"

"Harry, we need his help. I've been reading about house elves since you first told me about Dobby. Most of them are happiest when they are bound to a wizard family. I don't understand how anyone could be happy being a slave, but Daddy always told me not to judge how anyone lives, but to see if they are truly happy. Isn't that right, Daddy?" Hermione smiled at her father.

"That's right, Kitten," Robert Granger replied. "Harry, I think it might be a good idea. I mean, if Hermione believes it is, well, I trust her judgment."

"So do I," Jane Granger chipped in.

"Alright," Harry responded. "Dobby, what has to be done?"

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1920, 5 July, 1994**

There was a knock on the door, so Robert got up to answer it.

"Yes?" he asked, facing a small, brown haired woman who was twirling a wand in her left hand.

"Mr. Granger? My name is Emmeline Vance and I wonder if I might come in? I'm looking for Harry Potter," she said, in a rather pleasant contralto.

"Err, I'd rather you didn't," Robert replied.

"I must insist," Vance said, pointer her wand at his chest. Robert backed away from her and she stepped into the foyer.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a small voice said. Emmeline whipped her head around and spotted Harry and Hermione, their wands trained on her. She laughed deeply at the sight.

"Do you really think that the two of you could really hope to stop me from taking you away from here, Harry?" she asked. She cocked her head to the side as a rolling clap of thunder boomed nearby. She could have sworn that it was dry as a bone outside. Rain started pelting the rooftop…

"You shall not hurt Master Harry Potter," a shrill voice intoned. Dobby stepped in front of Emmeline and waved his hand at the petite witch. She was blown off of her feet and straight through the foyer wall! She landed about thirty feet away and skidded under Robert Granger's old lorry. Her clothes were in tatters, and she appeared to be unconscious. One of her boots was still standing in the foyer where she was standing just moments before

Dobby looked up at Harry. "Excuse me Master Harry," Dobby said to him. "Dobby must be taking out the trash." With a pop both he and unconscious witch disappeared. A few seconds later, Dobby popped back in and grabbed the lone boot only to disappear once again!

**Author's note: **I have a recommendation for you all: I've been reading a fic I just found called "_Ghost of You_" by blacktag189. It's a 33 chapter, in work Harry/Ginny story, but be forewarned, it's almost 400,000 words! I've only gotten a few chapters in, but it is really one of the finest Harry/Ginny fics I've read in a long time. If you have a chance, and you enjoy the pairing, check it out. It's a worthwhile read thus far.


	4. Differences of Opinion

**********Disclaimer:** I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling

**Chapter Four: Differences of Opinion**

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 0720, 6 July, 1994**

The next morning Hermione convinced Harry to take a few moments and send an owl to Sirius. She felt, rightfully so, that they needed some help in the fight to keep Dumbledore at bay. It was only a matter of time before the vain wizard tried once more to do something that would jeopardize Harry's happiness, and possibly his life. It wasn't as if Dumbledore had ever really given a damn about either in Hermione's opinion.

So Harry diligently sat down and wrote a letter to his Godfather:

_Dear Snuffles,_

_As you may or may not know, I have flown the coup, leaving the Dursleys behind for good. I can no longer live there, and I have finally found a place that feels like home. I have found a family that actually cares for me, and get this, they knew my Mum and Dad! _

_Of course, they didn't know this because the bearded goat took away their memories of it. I actually found proof of the knowledge in a piece of parchment from Mum. _

_Snuffles, I don't know what to do. I no longer trust the old fart to look out for my best interests. I think that he actually wants me to die trying to fight Moldyshorts… I really need your advice. I know that you need to stay hidden, but please find a way to get in touch. My bird and I cannot do this by ourselves._

_Oh yes, I finally showed her how much she means to me. It took me a while, but at last I figured out that much at least. The last time you saw her you were riding off into the distance on our feathered friend. I know that most see her as a_ _bookworm, a nag and a plain Jane, but she grows more beautiful to me each and every day. I've never known love before, but it feels incredible. _

_In the spirit of a true Marauder, I've enclosed the address away from prying eyes. I need you, Snuffles. I need my family close._

_Harry_

**St. Mungo's Hospital, London, 0815, 6 July, 1994**

Albus Dumbledore rushed through the corridors of St. Mungo's Hospital. He had received the summons in the middle of the night. It seemed that someone had brought in Emmeline Vance in, and with her not having any other point of contact, someone in charge had remembered seeing the two of them together at the Ministry.

As he got to the door behind which the younger witch lay, he took a moment to straighten out his robes and make sure that he looked presentable. A proper image was the most important thing after all. If he were to be perceived as old and past his prime then he would be much less effective because of it. But, if he were perceived as powerful and always in control, then he would always be seen that way. Yes, perception was his greatest ally. Unfortunately for him his perceived image would shortly be lower than a flobberworm in its death throes.

He strode into the room as if he owned the place, but even he, the great Albus Dumbledore, came up short. He stared as a team of wizards and witches struggled to remove what appeared to be Emmeline's own boot from her exposed posterior. Nothing that they tried seemed to have any effect and she feebly groaned in pain with each attempt that they made.

He waited until someone noticed him, and then motioned him over. As the young healer came over he leaned down to whisper in his ear. "What happened to her? She looks a wreck."

"Someone found her, discarded in a muggle dumpster in a back alley. She was covered in what appeared to be…" he looked down at a note that he had in his hand, "drywall dust and automotive oil." He looked back up at the Headmaster. "She had several contusions and broken bones. Her skull was fractured in four separate places, and she had dislocated her left shoulder. She is suffering from a severe concussion, and she seems to have had one of her own boots stuffed up her arse…"

"How could this have happened?" Dumbledore absentmindedly ran his fingers through his beard while he tried to wrap his mind around what had happened to his lackeys, er, friend.

"Well, she also appears to have taken a really nasty concussion hex to the sternum," the healer answered. "If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that someone hexed her through a wall and into a muggle car. As to what happened with her boot, I would say that it was a very pointed message to her and to whoever she was associated with… You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Professor?" The Healer looked at the Old headmaster pointedly.

"What? No." he answered pointedly. "I'm simply here because the Ministry needed to be aware of what happened to one of their aurors, so I came in my official capacity as Chief Warlock." The healer's look of disbelief went unanswered.

"Well, she'll be here for at least another day, depending on if we manage to get the boot out of her rectum, and then there is the matter of healing her concussion. Can I contact you when she's feeling up to visitors?" He looked tiredly at the aged wizard.

"Of course," Dumbledore answered easily. He would want to hear from her just what had happened anyway…

He peered at the healer's name tag. "Please keep me advised, Healer Watkins," he said in a commanding voice. "I need to pay a visit to an old friend anyway. Carry on my good man." He turned and left the disgruntled healer to get on with his job.

After reaching the hospital apparition point, he disappeared with a resounding crack.

**The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, 0830, 5 July, 1994**

Albus Dumbledore reappeared in front of the Burrow, looking for the entire world like the most confident wizard in existence. He strode purposefully up to lane and knocked on the door. He was met there by Percy Weasley. It would be his luck that the worst Head Boy in the entire existence of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hadn't yet kissed enough arse to get a job!

"Hello, Professor, do come in sir," Percy said as he opened the door.

"Thank you, Percy," Dumbledore answered as he stepped inside. "Would your mother be in?"

"I'm sorry Professor, she's out with the rest of the kids in Ottery St. Catchpole proper at the moment. I don't expect them back for at least three or four hours. Might I be of help?" He puffed up his chest proudly. He _had_ been Head Boy after all. He had repeatedly shown how useful he could be in the past.

Dumbledore considered him critically. Admittedly the young wizard was the biggest kiss-arse that even Dumbledore had ever seen, and that was saying something, for Dumbledore had been dealing with the likes of Cornelius Fudge for a very long time. What a complete wanker! He leaned into the young ginger-haired wizard and whispered in his ear. "Actually, Percy, there is something you can be doing for me…"

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1005, 6 July, 1994**

Hermione was just settling down to read one of her novels while Harry was busy taking a shower. She loved him, but she was thankful that he was thoughtful enough to allow her to have her own space and time.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Wondering who it could be at this time, she went to the door and looked through the peep hole. She opened the door, surprised to see Percy Wealsey standing there. "Percy! How nice to see you? Do come in," she said as she held the door open for him.

"Thank you Miss Granger," he said formally as he stepped in. "Have you seen Harry Potter? It seems he's gone missing, and one of the witches who were out looking for him was assaulted. Professor Dumbledore fears the worst."

"Err, no," Hermione lied to the older wizard. "I haven't seen Harry this summer." She hoped that he wouldn't see through her, as she wasn't a good liar at all.

"I think that you might know something," he said suddenly as he grabbed her by her hair, yanking her towards him. She let out a shriek of pain. "I think that you know exactly where he is. You really shouldn't try to protect him. He needs to pay for assaulting Miss Vance." He tugged again on her hair, keeping her off balance.

"Now, tell me where he is!" he growled at her. As Percy wrenched her head he thought to himself, 'She'll learn who her betters were.' She was, after all, only a muggleborn, and he was a pureblood... He pulled her head up so that he could look her in the eyes. As he did so the look that he saw there wasn't one of pain or fear. It only held anger… anger and the promise of much pain to the one who had made her mad. He went to pull her again, to wipe the look off of her face when she exploded into motion.

Her knee rammed into his ribs with a sickening crack. He wheezed as the rib punched through something soft and squishy in his middle. He didn't have time to do anything, for as he folded like a sandwich her elbow came up and shattered the right side of his jaw. She then grabbed his ears and yanked down hard on them while she brought her knee up into his face, breaking both cheekbones and crushing his nose. As he toppled forwards her foot went up and over him, to slam into the back of his skull, driving him forehead first into the tile floor. His brain slammed first into the back of his skull then hard into the front of his skull, then bounced back, only to hit the back of his skull once more. He didn't move from where he landed.

She stood there panting as Harry came tearing down the stairs, clad only in a towel and his wand. He had heard her shriek and had come running. "Bloody Hell?" He hollered as he came around the corner, seeing Percy lying in a pool of his own blood. "Merlin, I think he's soiled himself," he said as he wrinkled his nose. "Is he alive?"

"I… I think so," Hermione replied softly. She was starting to shake now. Her Dad had warned her that it would be like this. She would react and then after the adrenaline rush was over she would get the shakes.

"What happened?" he asked as he took her in his arms. She started sobbing, and it took a while to get the story out of her. At that point he was both thankful that her father had taken the time to teach her whatever this Thai kick boxing was, and frightened almost to the point of wetting himself lest he ever do something to make her that upset with him. He assured her that she had done nothing wrong, and then set her down on the couch while he considered what to do with the redheaded pillock.

"Dobby," he called. The little elf appeared instantly.

"You called, Mr. Harry Potter, sir?" The elf was bouncing on his heels, looking adoringly at Harry.

"Dobby, I need you to take out the trash again, though this time, I think that you need to send him straight to St. Mungo's." He motioned towards Percy. With a snap of the little elf's fingers the ginger was gone.

"Did you's be needing anything else?" Dobby inquired while bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet; looking for all the world like a maniacal chipmunk tweaked out on an energy drink.

"No, Dobby, you did just fine. You can go back to whatever it was that you were doing before. Thank you." Harry shook his head as the little elf disappeared with a resounding crack.

He returned to Hermione and held her. "Sweetheart, I don't think that we can ever trust Professor Dumbledore again," he said softly. He felt a rush of emotion as she nodded in agreement into his chest.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1735, 6 July, 1994**

Harry had just finished explaining to Hermione's parents why she was in the state that she was in when they had arrived home. Robert had immediately set out to hunt down all the wizards he could think of and single-handedly thrash them. Thankfully Jane had other thoughts.

"Robert, calm down. From what Harry here tells us, he's lucky to be alive right now. Hermione really hurt him quite badly, and that's without using magic." She motioned them forward. "Why don't we all sit down and have a cool drink?" She led her enraged husband and the teens into the den. "I know that I could use a drink right now."

As they were sitting down Hedwig flew in and set down next to Harry. She held out her leg so that he could have the letter that was there.

_Harry,_

_I've been thinking about what you wrote to me about. I think that you definitely need some help. I would come myself, but as you know, it isn't safe for me right now. I would suggest that you send your owl to Madam Amelia Bones at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Her niece is in your year, Susan Bones. _

_She's fair and experienced, Harry. She'll get to the bottom of things, and treat you with respect and courtesy. She's a good investigator, and you couldn't ask for a better witch to have at your side, except perhaps for the witch you already have there… *wink__-wink__*_

_Get her to visit you, Harry. You need to do something quickly, or Dumbledore will just keep trying to get you back with the Dursleys._

_Love, your sexy female loving Dogfather, _

_Snuffles_

Harry showed the note to the Grangers, and they agreed with Sirius' view of the situation. He took a few moments to write to Madam Bones while the Grangers comforted their daughter. Once he was finished he spent the rest of the evening chatting with the Grangers while he cuddled on the love seat with Hermione.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1800, 8 July, 1994**

There was a knock at the door, so Robert got up and went to answer it. As he opened the door, there were three individuals there, two women and a man. One of the women was obviously in charge. She was a tall woman, and she looked to be in her middle fifties. She had a monocle in one eye, and she held out her hand to Robert.

"Mr. Granger?" she asked as she shook his hand.

"Yes," he replied cautiously.

"I'm Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Might I and my colleagues come in?" she asked. He showed them in and took in the other two. The man appeared had an air of competence about him, a self-assuredness that went well with his short wiry grey hair. The woman had pink hair and appeared to be chewing on some bubble gum.

"This is Auror Dawlish, and Auror Tonks," she introduced them to him. "Would your daughter and Harry Potter be here? We're here to take a statement from them and to hopefully determine a course of action."

"Right this way," he led them into the den. Harry was there with Hermione. The two of them were playing a game of war with a deck of playing cards. "Kids, this is Madam Bones, and Aurors Dawlish and Tonks," he told them.

Harry stood quickly and shook each of their hands. "Thank you for coming. We've been having some difficulties with Professor Dumbledore, and some of his people. Frankly, we didn't know what to do, and a friend of ours thought that we should speak to you."

"You suggested as much in your letter to me," Madam Bones replied. "Susan has told me that you seem to be a very truthful young man, though very few people seem to believe you when you first say something. She says that you've always been right in the end though."

"Please thank her for me," Harry replied. He motioned for them to sit, and then the two children told them about what had been happening.

After a rather eventful hour's chat Amelia interrupted them. "Would it be easier if I just reviewed your memories?"

"You can do that?" Harry asked.

"I can," she replied. She reached into a pocket and took what appeared to be a small lens from inside it. She took her wand and enlarged it so that it was roughly half the size of the coffee table. She looked to the two aurors. "If you would both be so kind as to teach these two how to extract a memory?"

Shortly thereafter the group sat and watched the memories as the solicitor's pensieve played them as a sort of hologram over the lens. The teens had given her every relevant memory they could think of, including everything that had happened at the end of the school year with Sirius and Wormtail.

Amelia conjured a piece of parchment and started writing. She waved her wand over it and it glowed yellow for a moment. "Might I borrow your owl, Harry?" she asked. Harry nodded and looked at Hedwig. The snowy owl glided over to the elderly witch. She attached the parchment to his leg and told the owl to deliver it to Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts as quickly as she could. She was not to wait for an answer.

With a hoot Hedwig was off into the night.

Amelia and the two aurors got up to leave. "Thank you, you two," she said to them. "You've given me much to ponder. I promise you that I'll see what I can do and get back to you shortly." She waved to the other two. "Come on you lot, we've got work to get on with." With that they left.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, 0600, 9 July, 1994**

Albus Dumbledore didn't know whether to be happy or not. On the 'not' side of things, he had just been woken from a fine dream involving a keg of firewhiskey, a delightfully dark haired young wizard, and a unicorn. On the 'happy' side, the owl that woke him he recognized as Harry's.

He took the parchment from the owl and it immediately took off. He unrolled it and took a look at it. It glowed yellow for a moment, enveloping him in its glow.

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

_You are hereby ordered to cease and desist all contact and/or activity concerning the Wizard Harry Potter immediately by order of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The only exception to this shall be the delivery of his school letter and book list in legal accordance with the Educational Communication Decree of 1823. So mote it be._

_Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

'How dare she?' Albus thought. 'Why I'll go right now and set things straight with…' He looked down at his large desk where there were five tall stacks of parchments. 'Oh, look at all this paperwork I have to get done.' He disgruntledly settled in to get going on all of the holiday paperwork that he had been putting off.

**The Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforement, 0700, 9 July, 1994**

Amelia Bones signed the paperwork and secretly filed it away. She nodded to Dawlish and Tonks as they passed by her office. The nodded back and she knew that things were now in motion. The super-secret black investigation into Albus Dumbledore and the situation with Sirius Black was now underway. She could legally keep it black for up to six months before she had to report it. Hopefully the two Aurors could unearth what she needed in that time frame.

She sighed and considered what she would do for the rest of the day.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1800, 31 July, 1994**

Harry and the Grangers had just returned from a very enjoyable dinner out, when Hermione dragged him into the living room. She plunked him down on the couch, and snuggled up next to him. It had been a rather quiet month after the first week, and Harry suspected that Madam Bones had somehow been responsible for it.

He took a few moments to cast the thought of Professor Dumbledore and his manipulations out of his head. He had just spent a very enjoyable birthday, his first happy one ever, with his new girlfriend and her delightful family. He had never felt this content before. He wrapped his arm around Hermione and pulled her in close. This was his idea of what Heaven must be like.

"Are you having a good birthday?" she asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

"You know that I am." He smiled at her before kissing her forehead.

"Good, because we have some things for you," she told him. "Close your eyes please."

He complied with her request, and when she allowed him to open them he was surprised with the stack of presents on the coffee table in front of him.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Jane Granger intoned. "We thought that you might enjoy getting some new things to wear. It isn't much, but I've found that a new wardrobe does wonders for one's self esteem."

Harry fought back the tears that were threatening to fall. "Thank you," he managed to whisper. He spent the next half hour unwrapping a bunch of packages of different types of clothing. "It'll seem strange to have clothes that actually fit me," he murmured.

"We have one other thing for you, son," Robert Granger said as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. He gestured towards the open between the living room and the foyer as Hermione wheeled in a new bicycle. Harry's eyes went wide as he saw it. He had always been somewhat jealous of all the bikes that Dudley kept getting each year. His extreme girth always meant that the thin, poorly constructed things would buckle shortly after he got them.

"Hermione explained to us how much you like flying, but we know that you already have a world class broom. Plus, you can't actually ride your broom here so we thought that you could get some of the feeling you get on your broom on this." Robert looked at Harry hopefully.

Harry didn't know how to respond. He stood there trembling slightly until Hermione came and wrapped him in a big hug. He calmed visibly in her embrace and her mother smiled at the sight.

"I think you should start teaching him tomorrow, Hermione," she said softly to her daughter. Hermione beamed and nodded enthusiastically. It would indeed be the best summer of Harry's young life.

**Number Sixteen East Landing Court, 1000, 30 August, 1994**

The pair sat on the couch, waiting patiently for Mr. Weasley to arrive. They didn't really know how he would show up, but they were rather curious. At precisely ten in the morning the fire turned green and disgorged Arthur Weasley gracefully into the living room.

"Good morning Harry and Grangers," Mr. Weasley called out merrily. Greetings were given all around. "Are the two of you ready? Do you have your things packed? Remember, we're going to go to King's Cross Station the day after the World Cup."

"Yes Mr. Wealsey," the teens said together. They pointed to their trunks, and Mr. Weasley promptly shrunk them and placed them in his pocket.

"Well, then," he started as he shook the Granger's hands and promised them that the pair would be fine in his family's care. "Best be off with you. Remember to enunciate clearly when you say 'the Burrow'. I'll be right behind you."

Harry followed Hermione into the fire. She spun out of sight as he called out "the Burrow!" He spun around and started to get dizzy when all of a sudden he was thrust out of the floo and flat on his face in front of Hermione and Ron, who was now laughing hysterically.

Harry glared at his friend. "I bet when we learn to apparate, you'll leave behind something, like an eyebrow or your nose," he muttered under his breath. He waited for Mr. Weasley to arrive and then collected his trunk. He lugged it upstairs to give himself time to cool down.

**The Burrow, 1930, 30 August, 1994**

Any dinner cooked by Mrs. Weasley was a treat, even if she did tend to push way too much towards Harry. Sometimes he wondered if she saw him as a Christmas goose that was in need of a good fattening just a few weeks before the holiday.

Hermione looked pointedly at him as they sat side by side. He swallowed and returned her gaze shakily. She gave him a tiny nod and he gulped. "Erm… I'd like to take a moment and let all of you in on something." The group of redheads all stopped eating, well most of them anyways. Ron stuffed the rest of his sausage in his mouth and chewed happily as he watched Harry.

"Hermione and I have started dating, and we wanted you to find out from us. We didn't want to hide it from anyone. I'm proud that she's agreed to be my girlfriend."

Ron looked like he had swallowed the rest of his mouthful and was choking on it, he turned so red. He gave Harry a death glare and pushed away from the table. "_Bastard!_" he hissed as he threw his dirty napkin at Harry.

Harry looked at him with a stunned expression on his face. He looked at Hermione and then back at Ron, confusion clearly written in his look.

"You just couldn't let me have anything could you?" Ron waved his fist in Harry's direction. "You come here showing off your brand new clothes, with your brand new girlfriend and you have to wave it under my nose!" Spittle splattered across Harry's face and he reached up a hand to wipe it off.

"Traitor!" Ron screamed at him and then he turned around and ran from the room, his heavy footsteps up the stairs echoing plainly through the house.

Harry looked around the table, unable to voice what he was feeling. Dejection hung heavily on him… The twins looked startled but happy for him. Arthur looked pleased for them. Ginny looked somewhat sad, but gave him a small smile. She got up and walked over to him and wrapped him a gentle hug. "Take care of her," she whispered to him.

He looked at Mrs. Weasley. It was clear that she thought the two of them much too young to be in a serious relationship, but one look from Arthur silenced whatever comment she had on her lips.

"I think that I'll just sleep on the couch tonight, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. When she looked scandalized he continued. "I wouldn't want to upset him any more tonight. We'll be off for the World Cup tomorrow, and in the excitement there maybe he'll get over his jealousy."

"Perhaps you're right, Harry dear," she answered. "I'll just go and get it made up for you," she said sadly.

**The Burrow, 0500, 30 August, 1994**

Harry awoke to a kiss on the cheek from Hermione. "Come on, sleepyhead, you need to get up and eat. We're leaving in an hour." Harry scrambled from the couch and hurried to the bathroom for his morning ablutions.

An hour later found the group trekking through Ottery St. Catchpole and up a long hill. Harry had a stitch in his side, and Hermione didn't look much better when they reached the top. They were met there by the Diggorys, and though Mr. Diggory seemed somewhat rude in his trying to subtly put down Harry to make Cedric sound more important, things went well.

After arriving at the event site, and having a somewhat entertaining encounter with a Mr. Roberts, the group eventually made it to their campsite. Harry and Hermione both assisted Mr. Weasley as he set up the tent. In reality, both of them had practiced this in Hermione's back garden, so they did most of the work, though Arthur really seemed to truly enjoy using the rubber mallet. His giggles were infectious as he smacked the pins into the ground.

After they were finished they went to where the twins and Ron had set up a fire. There were two open chairs, but Hermione settled herself down in Harry's lap.

"Oh, you just had to sit there didn't you! What's the matter Hermione, our chairs aren't to your liking?" Ron spit out.

"Actually, Ronald," she replied through clenched teeth, "I thought that Ginny might like to join us," she motioned to the girl who was approaching. "So, I figured she could have that chair."

"Just shut up!" Ron had jumped up and was bending down threateningly as he hissed at her.

Hermione suddenly found herself lifted up and gently placed off to the side so quickly she wasn't sure how it had happened. Just as quickly Ron found himself flat on his back with his legs tangled up in the chair he had landed on as a large bruise started to form where Harry had slugged him in the jaw. Harry stormed off, and Hermione could feel the magic flowing off of him in waves.

"Bloody pillock!" Ron yelled as he tried to scramble to his feet. He managed to get up just in time to block Hermione from following Harry. "Well, at least he left us alone to get comfy," he said with a smirk in Harry's direction. He turned to Hermione. "Wanna snog?" Her foot sinking in up to the calf in his bollocks convinced him that she didn't as he toppled over with a high pitched whine.

She had always counted Ron as a friend before, but right at this moment he seemed to be as much of an arse as Malfoy had ever been. Bloody Hell! That hurt more than she thought possible. She wasn't sure what to do about it, but right now her biggest worry was catching up with Harry!

Hermione sprinted in the direction that Harry had disappeared in. It didn't actually take time to find him. He was shaking with rage and pacing back and forth trying to calm down. Hermione quickly had him in a hug. She pulled him down to the grass and started running her fingers through his messy hair. As he started to calm down they looked up and saw a pair of people walking towards them.

It appeared to be a father and daughter. Both had platinum blond hair, thought the father's was much more unkempt than the daughters, and slightly shorter as well. Upon closer inspection he appeared to be somewhat cross eyed. The daughter was skipping merrily next to her father, and she had what looked like a cork necklace and radish earrings. Then, their mismatched gaudy colored clothes seem to be even more outlandish even for magicals. When she saw the couple she smiled and waved at them. She started pulling her father towards them…

**Author's Note: **Once again, a great big thank you goes out to my beta: Dennisud. I don't know what I'd do without you on this one buddy!

So here we go again, I hope that you've enjoyed it. Up next: the historic meeting of Hermione and Luna! Yay!


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